Samuel Kettell, ed. Specimens of American Poetry. 1829.
By Lady Byron to Her HusbandSolyman Brown (17901876)
F
If thy fickle flame was love;—
Though our transient joys are over,
I can ne’er inconstant prove.
Swear his love shall ne’er decline;
Yet, unfix’d as changing fashion,
Woman’s fate may change like mine!
Might on Byron’s oath rely;
But my arms do scarce receive thee
Ere thy oaths, unheeded, die.
Stole me from a mother’s care;
Then in wantonness forsook me
For a less admiring fair.
Nought thy purpose could beguile;
Not a wife, her woes bewailing,
Nor a lovely infant’s smile.
Steel’d thy soul to all that ’s mild;
Dimm’d thy moral sight with blindness,
Left thee Nature’s wayward child.
What thou hast not, who can blame?
Virtue is what heaven denied thee,
And the world has done the same.
No, thy griefs will all be mine;
I shall weep when foes beset thee,
Smile when fortune’s sun shall shine.
Hate the father of her child?
Gracious Heaven! my anguish smother,—
At that name, my infant smiled!
To protect her growing years;—
Unsuspecting orphan, rather
Drown thine eye in floods of tears!
All his care you must forego;
Other woes thy peace may blast not,
Yet thou hast this keenest wo!
Guard thee from the ills of life;
Death alone hath power to sever
Byron’s babe and constant wife!